by
Bobby didn’t mean to be a best-selling author, but a nasty breakup inspired him. When he meets sexy publisher Liam, will his past block hope for love?
Following a breakup, this opposites-attract romance begins with Bobby Devereaux riding the waves of resentment which inspires him to write a bestselling novel. No longer having a reason to stay in New York, he retreats to his family farm in Iowa.
When Liam Rickard, the dashing CEO of Rickard Publishing, turns up unannounced demanding a sequel, Bobby is determined to resist the man’s charms and stick with the goals he’s set for himself. A plan which certainly doesn’t involve writing more novels or falling for one of New York’s most eligible bachelors. But, resisting the debonair publisher isn’t something Bobby seems to be capable of.
Liam Rickard is looking for something special. He needs a book that’s going to be a bestseller or face losing his position as CEO of his family’s publishing company. Despite his desire to keep his life well ordered, he’s thrown when the hottest new writer in a generation turns his world into glorious chaos.
Both Bobby and Liam have a lot to lose if this relationship doesn’t work out. When forces conspire against them, will they choose each other, or will they fold under the pressure?
- 3 To Be Read lists
Publisher: Independently Published
Editors:
Illustrators:
Cover Artists:
Genres:
Pairings: M-M
Heat Level: 3
Romantic Content: 5
Ending: Click here to reveal
Character Identities: Gay
Protagonist 1 Age: 18-25
Protagonist 2 Age: 26-35
Tropes: Bad Breakup, Hurt / Comfort, Office / Workplace Romance
Word Count: 59588
Setting: New York/Rural Iowa
Languages Available: English
“Listen, I know you’re busy, so I won’t stay long, but I have questions that need to be answered. Are you interested in me? I mean really interested, like for more than just someone you can get to write books for you?”
He stared at me. I swear he was giving me the same look he had the day before, which was why I thought maybe he wanted me for more than … well, for more than writing books.
When he didn’t respond, I got up and started pacing the huge office.
READ MORE“Okay, well that says a lot right there. I guess I got my wires crossed and thought you might want more. Now my agent is telling me to walk on fucking eggshells not to piss you off, so you don’t crush my book or something. So, here’s the deal. If you wanna control me, Mr. Rickard, then you need to give that shit up ’cause I’m not someone to control or manipulate. I’m my own man and all I owe you—or really, all I owe your company—is what we have contracted.” I was beginning to feel my juices flowing. “I offer you respect, and when I fuck up, I apologize like a respectable person. But you aren’t better than me, and if you plan on crushing my writing ‘cause I don’t bow down and kiss your fucking feet, then you can shove all of it.”
I turned to leave and didn’t even notice he’d gotten up out of his seat. When I turned around, just about to blow my final gasket, he took my face gently in his hands and said, “Yes.”
I couldn’t for the life of me understand what he was saying yes to.
“Yes, what?”
He smiled, the crooked way people do when they’re being a little ornery, and said, “You asked me if I’m interested in you for more than just the books you write, and the answer is yes. It might be stupid, could be inappropriate, but the answer is still yes.”
I stared at him for a long moment and still on an adrenaline high, reached up and pulled him down to me, crushing my mouth into his. He returned my kiss with equal passion, the two of us tangled into each other, when Irene cleared her throat.
I pulled back so fast and so far, that I bumped into the wall of books that stood next to the doorway.
Irene was obviously trying not to smile, and she kept her head bowed. When I looked at Liam, his face was glowing red, but his eyes were on me like an animal about to attack prey.
I pulled in a breath as Irene said, “Your lunch appointment is here,” and darted out the door.
“Fuck.” I said in a whisper, afraid the person he was meeting next would hear me. I was just about to leave when an older woman walked into the room. She was tall and thin, the perfect mix of New York sophistication. Her hair was coiffed beautifully and the aroma that came in with her was intense and expensive.
She looked over at Liam, then at me, and cocked her eyebrow in the same way Liam usually did.
Fuck, it’s his mother. Of course, it’s his mother.
“Well, Mr. Rickard,” I quickly recovered. “I think that pretty much covers my questions.”
Even saying that made me blush, and when the woman noticed she laughed out loud. I had visions of Christine Baranski on the Good Fight right before she filleted someone.
“I’ll leave you to your next appointment,” I said, ready to run like a scared child from the room.
“Oh, no you’re not,” she said, stopping me dead in my tracks. “I see I’ve come at an inopportune time, which, of course, is a mother’s greatest achievement. Mister…”
She waited for me to give her my name.
“Devereaux,” I said, ready to wilt and die.
Her eyes got big and she looked over at her son, who was clearly equally mortified. Which, truthfully, gave me more satisfaction than it should have.
“You are Mr. Bobby Devereaux, star writer of our latest books?” she asked. “That’s lovely,” she purred, and looked back at Liam. “I’m sure your father will be very pleased. Mr. Devereaux, it would be a huge honor if you’d join us for lunch. Wouldn’t it, darling?”
COLLAPSE
